


Witching Hour

by fab_fan



Category: Motherland: Fort Salem (TV)
Genre: Angst, Apologies, F/F, Forgiveness, Introspection, Light Angst, Scylla and Willa might not get along, The Author Regrets Everything
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:08:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fab_fan/pseuds/fab_fan
Summary: There, perched on the bed in the faded moonlight trickling in from the open window, pale where the lamplight and night met, was Raelle Collar. Scylla drank her in, chest stuttering at the familiar blonde braids, lips quirked in a tiny smirk, eyes glowing like a hot summer sky, cloudless and pure. Laid on her side, her hand held up her head, the normal regulation uniform she always wore replaced by the combat gear Scylla remembered seeing during Citydrop her first year. The black and grey material hid strong arms and a lithe frame.It looked all wrong on her.“Hey,” Raelle peered up at her.“What?” Scylla blinked, “What are you doing here?”
Relationships: Raelle Collar/Scylla Ramshorn
Comments: 52
Kudos: 277





	1. Chapter 1

Scylla carefully crept up the stairs, picking her way over the stair that groaned under even the smallest of weights and dodging the lip of one that stuck out a little farther than the others. It was dark, memory and instincts guiding her through the quiet house. It was late, and the normal music or voices had long gone silent. Just as she had planned for.

She didn’t want to run into anyone. Have to deal with everything that had happened all over again.

Have to face Willa Collar again.

Her fists clenched, and she forced herself to remain calm. 

Willa Collar - Raelle’s mother.

The woman Raelle mourned. Grieved. Whose death had hurt Raelle so much that the younger witch had been on a death march since stepping on the bus to Fort Salem. Had her concoting some stupid plan to get herself killed. Die young on the front lines. 

A plan Scylla had been so afraid she would follow through with.

Raelle was broken when they met. 

They both were.

It wasn’t even supposed to mean anything.

Raelle was a mark. Nothing more. A means to an end.

Yet, with one look and a lip bite, Scylla was hers. 

Until all the lies came to light.

So many lies and manipulations and regrets.

And it all started because Willa Fucking Collar sent Scylla to recruit her daughter, and never told her who Raelle was. Who she was. That Raelle might be safe with them.

Goddess, it was such a mess, and Scylla hated it.

So many lies. 

Didn’t Willa care? Didn’t she understand what she had done to Raelle? How her daughter grieved for her. That Raelle felt so much. 

It was something Scylla both loved and feared about her girlfriend...ex-girlfriend.

Were they still even together?

Raelle was emotion. Passion. Burned bright and hot. Consumed everything she touched with a rakish grin and heartfelt eyes. 

She blazed with anger, voice powerful enough to level entire cities and a protective fighting spirit that would take on anyone, even the goddess herself.

She also could love like Scylla had never known was possible. Gentle and soft yet full of so much desire and want that it made Scylla gasp and left her head spinning.

The first time they touched was forever seared into Scylla’s brain. Unexpected, yet the start of something Scylla could never let herself regret. 

She had so many regrets. Being with Raelle, loving her, being loved by her, could never be one.

Lying? Manipulating? Hurting her? Yes.

Having even one night in her arms? Being able to kiss her lips and hold her close? Never.

She still loved Raelle. Couldn’t imagine ever not loving her. 

And Raelle couldn’t even be in the same room as her. 

The broken look that cracked her lover’s face the last time they spoke, trapped in that horrible basement, dark and damp and full of so many shadows and such sorrow it was a miracle she even survived it. That Raelle was allowed in.

That Raelle, the personification of light, was forced to be amongst the darkness that both of them fought so hard to banish from within the blonde’s soul.

But, the darkness was back. And, it was because of Scylla.

Scylla and the Army and Willa Collar.

All sides knowingly or unknowingly converging to tear apart the best thing that ever happened to Scylla. Someone so inherently good that it was almost impossible to believe she was real. Complex and intriguing but always wanting to do the right thing. To help. To heal. 

To kiss away the pain she saw residing in Scylla. Take it on as her own.

Scylla locked her jaw.

Everyone had their own ulterior motives in this game. 

Scylla.

The Army.

Willa fucking Collar.

The young witch had chosen to spend her time in a local park that day and into the night. A small playground she had stumbled upon while trying to not murder her former girlfriend’s mother. A battle of wills that left her exhausted and needing to get away, to get her emotions under control because all she wanted to do was tear into Willa with every single grief and pain filled thought that plagued her soul since she was little and first learned that nowhere was safe.

Scylla knew how to remain calm. Not give in to the temptation of emotions. It was one thing that set her apart from Raelle, allowed them to work so well together. Scylla had spent so many years hiding behind a mask, she could easily slip into it when needed. Raelle couldn’t. Where Raelle burned, Scylla simmered. Only together did they balance each other out, coming together to form the perfect blend of fire and ice, give and take, push and pull. They showed each other so much, learned so much together.

Goddess, Scylla missed her.

There were so many what-ifs. 

What-if she never pretended to be Helen?

What-if she met Raelle without ulterior motives?

What-if she never went to that wedding?

What-if they went to the beach? Ran away together?

What-if she was able to kiss Raelle one last time? See her one last time? Away from chains and guards and shattered hearts. Where she could tell Raelle everything that was deeply hidden in her heart, and have the younger witch listen to her. The same way she always listened to Scylla. Saw her beyond the masks and lies. Saw her for who she truly was. A sad grieving girl yearning to have something to hold on to beyond the anger and pain. Who believed in a Cause that could save them both.

Instead, she was stuck here, waiting to see what Willa had planned for her. Undecided on what she could even do. Where she could go. What she wanted. 

What her options were beyond fighting with herself over leaving Raelle alone and fighting to get her back. 

Fighting for the Cause. For liberation. For freedom.

Raelle at her side as they worked to have the life her parents never got.

Would Raelle have listened to her about the Cause if things had been different? The blonde wasn’t blind to what was wrong with the military. 

What if she knew her mother was Spree?

If Scylla was Spree? 

Before the Army told her. Twisted everything to fit their narrative. Their warped view of the slavery witches were subjected to.

What if they ran away together and got new names? Left and followed the map her parents had laid out, traveling west until they hit the sea.

Scylla slunk down the hallway, fingertips running along the length of the wall before she touched the hard wood of the door to her temporary bedroom.

As she reached for the doorknob, the air around her seemed to crackle, and Scylla wondered if a summer thunderstorm was about to strike. The change in pressure felt familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. Maybe like the raging lightning blasts she vaguely remembered spun through the Cession. Raelle used to tell her about the sky splitting storms that hit her hometown every spring. The hairs on the back of her arms stood up, and a tiny shock zapped her right palm when it gripped the handle. 

Worrying her bottom lip, Scylla twisted and pushed the door open, slipping inside and shutting it gingerly behind her. She reached over and flicked the light switch, the bedside lamp sputtering to life and casting a pale artificial yellow beam across the bed and melded with the shadows in the far corners of the room.

Starting to turn around, she paused.

Something wasn’t right.

She breathed in deeply, making her heartbeat remain steady.

She mentally scrolled through the list of protective seeds and other pieces of Work she could use.

“Did you play lacrosse?”

Her knees buckled slightly at the voice. Her entire world shrunk down to that lone tone, a familiar rumble that had her eyes closing and hand shaking.

“Because, I can’t see it. Sorry, but that one time I tried to get you to play with me, you sucked. I still can’t believe no one knows it was you who broke that truck window.”

Lungs frozen, Scylla slowly turned, eyes full of disbelief, “Raelle?”

There, perched on the bed in the faded moonlight trickling in from the open window, pale where the lamplight and night met, was Raelle Collar. Scylla drank her in, chest stuttering at the familiar blonde braids, lips quirked in a tiny smirk, eyes glowing like a hot summer sky, cloudless and pure. Laid on her side, her head held up her by her hand, the normal regulation uniform she always wore replaced by the combat gear Scylla remembered seeing during Citydrop her first year. The black and grey material hid strong arms and a lithe frame. 

It looked all wrong on her.

“Hey,” Raelle peered up at her.

“What?” Scylla blinked, “What are you doing here?” How had she gotten there? Did Willa know she was there?

Then, it hit her.

She had seen this before.

Back at Fort Salem.

When the Spree wanted her to go to the wedding. When they warned her about getting too close to Raelle. Her divided loyalties. When Raelle turned out to not be Raelle at all.

As if sensing her doubts, Raelle sat up, legs swinging over the side of the bed. She stood up, shoulders slightly hunched, “I wanted to see you.”

Scylla stared at her, studied her, looking for something amiss.

Something to prove this was a dream or a nightmare or a trick by the Spree or the Army.

A reason as to why her former lover would suddenly appear in her room, far away from Fort Salem, even farther away from what they once used to be to each other.

“Seriously, though.” Raelle lifted her chin toward the clutter of lacrosse gear in the corner near the closet, “When did you play?”

“I didn’t.” Scylla licked her lips, “My...Wi...someone I trusted had a daughter who played. She tried to teach me. I wasn’t any good at it.” How stupid had she been? How many lies had Willa weaved? When did she know that she was sending Scylla to her daughter? 

“No, Scyl, you really weren’t.”

“How did you get in here?”

“How do you think?”

Anacostia. It had to have been Anacostia.

Raelle hooked a thumb over her shoulder, “You left the window open. I told you I can climb almost anything.”

From her time growing up in the Cession. She used to climb trees and scrambled up a few houses to help fix roofs for neighbors and her pop. “Who are you?”

Face falling, Raelle frowned, “Are you ok?” She ducked her head, “Stupid question.”

“You’re not Raelle.”

She frowned harder.

Scylla pressed her back against the door, “Raelle Collar is at Fort Salem.”

Relle scoffed, “I’m really not.”

“I’m not playing this game.”

“No game.” Raelle held up her hand, “Say hi to me.”

“What?”

“You want to know it’s me?” She showed her left palm, “Say hi to me.”

The piece of Work Scylla created to always say hi to her.

Carefully, Scylla drew an S along her palm.

It appeared on Raelle’s hand.

Right in the center of her palm.

“Raelle?”

“Yeah.”

She pushed off the door, all but running toward her until she skidded to a stop about a foot away. Was she allowed to touch her? Hug her? Make sure she was ok? “Are you hurt? What’s wrong? Why are you here? Are you ok?” She swallowed thickly, “Tell me you’re ok.”

“I’m ok, now.”

“Now?” Her brows furrowed, “Did something happen at Fort Salem? Did someone hurt you?” She desperately scanned her form. A droop of a shoulder, a favoring of a leg, anything to denote pain. Her face was smudged with dirt and sand caked her hair. There was a ring of exhaustion around her eyes. A small patch of discoloration adorned her chest, a splotch of something on the fabric, but that could simply be the lighting. 

Scylla really did not like seeing her in that outfit.

Why was she in that outfit?

That was meant to be worn during combat.

Only combat.

Was Raelle taking part in a mission? Was she here because of that?

Raelle bit her lip but didn’t reply.

“Someone hurt you. Who?” Had the Army figured out she was gone? Did they go after Raelle because of it? “Raelle…”

“I’m sorry.” she blurted out.

Scylla leaned back as if hit, “What?”

Raelle slid to the side, hands rubbing together as she paced, “I’m sorry. I...I wanted to tell you that. That I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Raelle peered over at her, troubled blues sparkling with regret in the greys of the room, “I never wished we hadn't met. You...meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me.”

_I’m sorry we ever met, Scyl_

Scylla pursed her lips, holding in whatever words or emotions churned inside at the apology.

“I said a lot of stupid things. Things I didn’t mean. I was angry. Hurt. All I could think is - you didn’t love me. That I was stupid enough to fall for someone who never wanted me back.” Raelle ducked her head, toe kicking at the floor, “Even if it was true, I never stopped loving you. I can’t. I know what I said was...”

“It’s ok.” Scylla reassured her, “I…”

“No, it’s not.” Raelle shook her head. “I hurt you. I wanted to hurt you. I...my mama always said my temper would get me in trouble.”

Scylla’s heart clenched as she mentioned Willa. It clenched harder at the absolute grief and guilt on her ex’s face. 

“You were always better at that than me. You got me to calm down. I...I was so angry, though, and sad. It’s stupid, no excuse, but I was willing to give everything to you, for you, and I was only a mark to you.”

“No,” Scylla jumped in, “You were never only a mark to me. Not like that. I love you. I want you. I will always choose you. Over anything else.”

Raelle nodded to herself, “You said that before.”

“I meant it then, and I mean it now.” Her voice quivered, “I know you don’t trust me. Trust anything I say. It’s still true, though. It will always be true. If there’s any way I can make you believe that, I’ll do it. I never wanted to hurt you. I was scared and...I’d never been in love before. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to protect you.”

“It was never your job to protect me, Scyl.”

“I will always protect you. Like you want to protect me.”

Raelle’s mouth trembled, and she bent her shoulders.

“What is it?” Scylla watched her, eyes searching, “If someone hurt you, please, tell me. Let me help you.” She had no doubt Raelle would hide an injury from her. Raelle was the fixer, not Scylla.

Raelle’s head tilted, as if someone was speaking in her ear. Her frown deepened, “I have to go.”

“Go where? What’s happening?” Did the Army know she was there? Anacostia? 

“Don’t worry about it.” Raelle shook her head.

That made her worry more.

“Raelle.” she moved to block her from the door, “talk to me. You’re scaring me.” She wanted to reach out, take her hand. Keep her there with her. 

“Didn’t mean to.” Her smile was tremulous, “I just wanted to see you again. Tell you I loved you. You deserve to know that.”

Scylla tried to understand, “Don’t go.” They could figure it out. Whatever was happening, they could work it out.

“You really are beautiful, Scyl.” Raelle’s words were softer than candlelight. “Even with what happened, I’m glad I met you. You made me happier than anything ever did.”

“Raelle,” a bitter coldness seeped through her skin, unspeakable dread curdling in her belly.

“Don’t be mad.” Her hands dropped listlessly at her sides.

“About what?” the chill spread across her shoulders and dipped along her spine, “Whatever it is, you can tell me. I know you don’t trust me, but there’s a reason you’re here. I can help you.”

Raelle looked down at the floor, “I would have gone to the beach with you. I wanted to. I wanted to do so many things with you.”

Something was really really wrong. “Hey, look at me. Talk to me. Please. We can still go to the beach. We can go right now.”

A resigned tilt of her lips, “Bowerbirds like blue. Like your eyes. Must be why I could never say no to them. Mate for life, too.” An ironic little chuckle escaped, “For life.”

She wasn’t making any sense. Scylla took a step toward her, afraid of spooking her.

“There was an old playground by my school back home. It was just rust, really. Most of the equipment was too dangerous for anyone to use, but us kids still played around on it. Nothing else around. One time I swung so high on the swing and jumped off, for a minute I actually thought I was flyin.’ That I could soar like the clouds and see everything below.” She chuckled, “Of course, I didn’t. Smacked into the ground so hard I blacked out for a few seconds. My head was buzzing for a week.” She clasped her hands together, “Never as good as the time we flew together. Swings got nothing on salva...or a beautiful woman.”

Scylla licked her lips, taking another small step. She started to raise her hand, ready to take Raelle’s in her own.

“So many things I wanted to do with you. Show you. Tell you.” Raelle exhaled, “You tried to teach me how to not be so angry. I’m sorry I forgot when it mattered most. That I forgot I promised to always believe you. Listen to you.”

“It’s ok. I forgive you.”

Raelle nodded, “I loved you so much. I’m sorry.” Her head lifted, “I have to go.”

A thump of footsteps outside the door distracted Scylla, and she peered over her shoulder as the doorknob rattled.

No.

She had to hide Raelle.

If someone...if Willa saw her...

The door swung open, and Scylla jumped to block Raelle from sight.

One of the other operatives, a young girl named Jessie, blearily peeked in, “Everything alright, Scylla?”

Scylla nodded, quickly thinking how she could explain Raelle’s presence. 

Jessie nodded, “Can you keep it down? I’m trying to sleep.”

“Yes, of course. Sorry.”

Another nod and the door closed.

Whipping around, Scylla opened her mouth to ask if Raelle was ok.

But, there was no one there.

She must have hid.

Blinking, Scylla searched the room. 

Under the bed. In the closet. Under the desk.

Raelle was gone.

She must have somehow crawled out of the window.

Worried, Scylla stayed awake all night, mentally planning how to get in contact with Anacostia and make sure Raelle was ok. Something was off. Something was not right.

It wasn’t until the next evening, when a report from Fort Salem had Willa inconsolable, that she knew something really was wrong.

Raelle got in the last lie between them.

With all the lies and omission and half truths between them, what was one more?

Raelle Collar wasn’t ok.

She was dead.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something wasn’t right.
> 
> Someone was in the room.
> 
> Without hesitation, she squared her shoulders and opened her mouth, eyes flashing as she sent a brutal windstrike toward the intruder.
> 
> The lamp on her bedside table crashed to the ground, and the bed itself shook violently, nearly toppling over as the window rattled.
> 
> “Nice to see you too, Beautiful.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because no one asked for it, and I wrote it anyway.

Scylla walked down the sidewalk quickly, all but sneering at the various carved pumpkins and fake cobwebs hanging from the porch lights of the various houses and businesses dotting the small downtown area. She ignored the children prancing around her, bags and pillowcases heavy with hordes of candy in their tiny hands. Commercialized spooky music mingled with erratic laughter, and the bright orange moon was overshadowed by rainbow lighted swords and willowy rubber masks.

The civilians had taken a sacred holiday and bastardized it beyond recognition.

Took a time that was as important as any day could be on the calendar. Twisted and turned the festival until it was about snickers bars and punch drunk parties instead of bonfires and shimmering barriers between worlds.

She walked faster as a group of rowdy teenagers bumped along beside her, joking and braying as they playfully jabbed at each other with plastic knives, fake blood splashed across their shirts and faces.

She couldn’t look at them.

How could someone think that was funny?

A deep seated anger burned inside her. She wanted them to know what it was like to really be stabbed. To have their hearts sliced through. 

To die alone and scared because no one was there to tell them it was ok, that they would be ok.

To kiss them goodbye and tell them they loved them one last time.

No, they didn’t understand what it felt like to die. To have someone hunt them down simply because of who they were. 

To take them away from the people who loved them.

Swallowing back the grief tinged anger, Scylla ducked around the corner and away from the festivities. Her boots slapped against the pavement, and she pulled her oversized jacket tighter around her. The old somewhat ragged coat that, if she closed her eyes and pretended, she could almost still smell the faint whiff of Cession sun on.

A gift from an anonymous friend.

Something that would have been thrown away by anyone else, but, to her, meant warm arms that wrapped around her when she slept during cold nights and served as a pillow when she needed happy moments to chase away the nightmares.

The cackle and whiz of fireworks zipped in the air, and she clenched her jaw as the sparkles of neon light exploded in the muted grey sky.

This was all wrong.

The civilians took Samhain and wanted it to disappear like everything else they deemed different. Other. Magical. 

Witches should only die for them. 

Nothing else.

Not have their own holidays. Their own lives. Their own thoughts and feelings and wants and desires.

No freedom.

Nothing but a uniform and a clock hanging over their heads counting down the days until they were no longer alive.

Reaching the small apartment building she called home, nothing more than a ramshackle townhome that served as a place to rest her head and body in between missions, Scylla skipped up the rickety steps, hopping over the broken one and sliding up to the door. She jammed a hand into her pocket and pulled out a set of keys, quickly sorting out the right one and shoving it in the lock. With a quick twist and tug, her other hand rapidly drawing the protective symbol stopping anyone from magically getting through, the door was open and she slipped inside.

The inside was the same muted grey as the sky, night wanting to draw near but the lights from various parties slamming through the windows like unwanted memories. She shrugged out of her coat, ignoring the light switch, and ambled toward the bedroom. Folding the coat and absently fiddling with her keys, she stepped into the room, closing the door behind her and reaching for the light switch, autopilot taking over her movements.

She paused.

Something wasn’t right.

Someone was in the room.

Without hesitation, she squared her shoulders and opened her mouth, eyes flashing as she sent a brutal windstrike toward the intruder.

The lamp on her bedside table crashed to the ground, and the bed itself shook violently, nearly toppling over as the window rattled.

“Nice to see you too, Beautiful.”

Scylla’s mouth snapped shut.

No.

It wasn’t possible.

It couldn’t be.

She stumbled back, spine hitting the door viciously. 

This wasn’t real.

Raelle swung her legs around, sitting up from where she had been lounging on the bed. 

The sheets remained smooth as glass, not one wrinkle or crease from where her body had supposedly been.

Raelle grinned at her, “I still take your breath away, huh?”

Scylla blinked, throat bobbing as she forced down the shock and confusion churning in her belly, “Raelle?”

A tilt of her head, “Been a while.”

Scylla breathed in deeply, “You’re not real.”

A frown, “Pretty real.” She patted at her torso and thighs, “About as real as can be.” She lifted her chin, “Nice coat, by the way. Always thought you’d look good in my clothes.” A lift of a shoulder, “Always wanted to see you in my clothes.”

“How…”

A pointed look as she slowly stood up, “You know how, Scyl.”

Samhain.

The barrier between worlds was thin.

She shook her head, trying to understand, to process, to comprehend, “You’re here?”

“I missed you.”

The coat hit the floor, keys clanging against the carpet as she rushed forward. She didn’t care if this was some sick game her exhausted mind was playing on her. If the Spree or the Army decided they had no more use for her and wanted to torture her one last time. 

She wanted Raelle back in her arms.

Damn whoever or whatever made it happen.

Before she could realize, could think, could remember all that she knew, she was falling through Raelle, her embrace passing like wind through the clouds. The blonde nothing more than wisps of smoke and mirrors. 

Sad blue eyes frowned at her, “I’m not that real, Scyl.”

Oh goddess, no.

Her face threatened to crumble.

Why give her back Raelle when she couldn’t have her?

A sob shuddered in her chest.

“I can’t touch you.” Scylla croaked. She couldn't hold her, caress her face, kiss her lips, wrap her arms around her shoulders and cradle her close. Couldn’t even brush the back of her hand against Raelle’s.

Raelle shook her head, “Would if I could.” Her eyes drooped, “I really wish I could.”

Scylla pursed her lips, “You’re here, though. You’re here.” Sure was unsure if she was speaking to Raelle or herself, seeking confirmation from the ghostly figure or trying to comfort her own mind.

“Yeah, I’m here.” Raelle nodded.

Fingertips drifted up to Scylla’s forehead, pressing against the headache forming behind silent unshed tears. “Raelle…”

“Hi,” Raelle smiled brokenly.

Scylla tilted her head back slightly, pushing back the tears before replying, “Hi.”

“You look good.” 

Scylla coughed out a shattered laugh.

Raelle’s hands clasped together, palms rubbing and fingers flexing anxiously, “I really do miss you.”

“I miss you, too.” Scylla gulped down another sob, “So much.” She didn’t want to cry. To force Raelle to see the pain her visit was causing, the pain that was nothing compared to the agony her last had resulted in. She never wanted Raelle to see how lost in the darkness she could be. She never wanted Raelle to feel that darkness, to be anxious or scared or sad. 

But, damn it, she was right there and, yet, she wasn’t.

And Scylla didn’t know if she wanted to cry with joy or heartbreak.

Raelle had to look away for a moment, “Nice place.”

Scylla could only stare at her. Drink her in. She didn’t have any pictures of her. Nothing but a copy of her military portrait, the one where she could see the unspoken grief and veiled sadness in every inch of the new cadet’s visage. A Raelle before her Unit. Before finding friends and a purpose. Before Scylla.

But, this, the person standing before her, was _her Raelle_. Crooked beautiful grin. Eyes that lost their shuttered walls and revealed the warm funny compassionate witch inside. Uniform jacket casually open and the outline of her medal hinted at beneath the black t-shirt underneath.

Just like she always remembered her.

Just like the last time she saw her alive.

Back in the basement, when Scylla pleaded with her to listen, and Raelle refused to stay.

When Scylla’s cautiously reconstructed world truly started to fall apart for good.

Raelle’s gaze drifted back, “What’re you doin’, Scyl?”

The hint of a drawl kicked Scylla hard enough that she almost doubled over. When the words registered, she blinked, “What?”

“I could feel your anger blocks away.”

Scylla’s jaw locked.

Raelle met her gaze head on.

“Don’t talk to me about anger, Raelle.”

“Someone has to.”

Scylla felt the thin thread of control stretch that much closer to its breaking point, “ _You_ came back from the dead to lecture _me_ about being angry?”

Raelle opened her mouth, but Scylla harshly cut her off before she could utter a sound.

“No!” Scylla visibly shook, voice so low it was nearly a growl, “You do not get to come back after _dying_ and tell me I’m angry. You said goodbye to me, and I never even knew it. You _died_ , Raelle. You left me. _You left_. You do not get to say how I react to that.”

“This isn’t about me.”

Scylla almost blurted out words tipped with pain so deep it would tear apart the most innocent of souls. She bit them back at the last moment, instead gnashing her teeth together and maintaining a modicum of control.

“You can’t hate them forever.”

“Who?”

“Civilians.”

Scylla inhaled sharply, “I don’t hate civilians.”

Raelle’s look was all that was needed to express her disbelief.

Scylla pursed her lips, “They killed you. Civilians killed you. The army. Civilians. They both…”

“I'm a civilian.” Raelle shrugged, “Half, at least.”

“That’s not the same.”

Raelle sighed, “You can’t be angry forever, Scyl.”

“What do you know about forever?” she snapped, “You promised me forever, and you’re not here.”

“Not exactly my choice.”

Scylla’s face flickered, her lips threatening to tremble and her eyes hinting at unshed tears, “I know.” It was not Raelle’s choice to join the military. It wasn’t her choice to give up her life because Alder made an Accord hundreds of years ago to enslave witches in the name of freedom.

Raelle rocked on her feet, “You’re not happy.” She ducked her head, the crack in her words striking a chasm in Scylla’s heart, “I wanted to be the one to make you happy, but I’m not. Goddess, I wanted to be the one. But, I’d rather you not be so angry and sad than to see you like this. This isn’t living, Scyl, and one of us needs to be alive.”

Scylla scoffed, eyes narrowing, “I am alive, Raelle. _I’m_ the one still here fighting. Every day, I am fighting.” Her words shook, “I’m fighting so no one else has to feel what I felt when I heard you were gone.” What she felt in that garage as her parents’ bodies hit the floor.

“You’re...”

“Witches are burning every day. Five this past week. Being hunted. Persecuted for being who they are.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed!” Raelle cut her off harshly, hand slicing through the air, “And that can’t happen.” Her arm dropped listlessly to her side, eyes boring into Scylla like cold blue shattered flames, “I miss you more than anything, Scylla, but I do not want to _see you_ . I don’t want to _be with you_. Because, that means you’re dead, too, and I need you to be alive and happy and not here with me.”

Scylla leaned back, heart stopping at the roughly spit out words.

“I love you.” Raelle croaked, “I love you more than anything. I loved you the moment I met you, and I loved you the moment I stopped breathing.” She didn’t blink as tears shimmered at the corners of her eyes, “I am sorry you’re hurting, Scylla. I am so sorry I can’t make it stop. But, this hate you feel? This...need for vengeance? It’s only going to make you do something stupid. Something reckless. You’ll go against someone you shouldn’t or take a risk without thinking it through, and you’ll die. I won’t let you die.”

“Raelle,” Scylla whimpered, unable to stop the name from cracking in two on the tip of her tongue, in the back of her throat, in her heart.

“You’re not dead, Scyl.” Raelle shrugged, “You’re the exact opposite. You’re alive and….it was never going to be me. We both knew what was going to happen. One way or the other, I wasn’t going to be around, no matter how much you made me want to.”

“That’s not true."

A sad smirk, “A necro attracted to death. And you...you made me live, Scyl. When I was with you, I felt so much. I never felt more alive than when I was with you. I wanted to be here.” The first glittering tear broke free, rolling down her cheek like a translucent crystal, “This anger you have, the last time you were this angry, you did something you regret. All it got you was more fear. More pain. It didn’t accomplish anything. You’re more than just...this. You...”

Scylla forced her voice to remain steady, “Witches won’t be free until we force it. Take it back.”

“Then what? What are you going to do? You can’t only have this!”

“This _is_ all I have. They took everything else. _Everything_.” 

Raelle stared at her, “You gonna kill my dad?”

Scylla’s mask fell, “What? No.”

“He’s a civilian.”

“Raelle,”

“Have you even talked to him? Met him?”

No. She hadn’t.

She couldn’t bring herself to approach the sobbing man she spotted from her hiding spot during the funeral. A funeral she could barely drag herself to. That sometimes she regretted attending because that wasn’t Raelle. That wasn’t the woman she loved. It was empty and hollow and nowhere near the passionate charming powerful witch who captivated her with one smirk and a glimmer in her eye.

“He knows who you are.” Raelle continued. “I told him about you. About this girl I was in love with. You might like him. Then, you could maybe talk to Anacostia. Or Tally. Hell, even Byron.” She exhaled, “You’re not alone, Scylla, even if I’m gone.”

Not alone.

She wanted to argue. To point out that those people were never her friends. That she had the Cause. Always had the Cause. That some nights she wondered if there was anything left inside of her to _be_ left alone. That she couldn’t forget the sounds Willa made when the news came. Couldn’t forget the cold numbing dread that filled her own soul when the words were said, a cold that never went away, no matter how many coats she wore. Cold numb hate because everything she ever cared about was torn away from her. Every good thing she ever loved. Ripped away because of Alder. Because of fear and greed and power and civilian masters with their complicit slaves.

Instead another truth tumbled out, “I can’t let you go.”

“You already have, if you think I’d be ok with you being like this.”

“You died because of conscription. You died because they made you serve. Deployed you.” Her voice barely got past the lump in her throat, “They took you, too. Don’t tell me to be ok with that. To _accept_ that you died and no one cared. That you were sent to die with no choice!”

Raelle paused.

Then, she verbally knocked Scylla to the ground.

“You think your parents are ok with you being like this?”

Scylla’s shoulders snapped back and her entire body froze.

Her parents?

“They’re really nice. Your dad is the biggest nerd I’ve ever met.”

Scylla didn’t know how to feel. Every single emotion inside of her crashed in a wave of feeling, taking over every part of her mind and numbing her body to anything but the overwhelming chaos in her head.

“You say you fight for us. In our honor.” Raelle smiled sadly, “You’re not. They didn’t want this for you, either.”

“You know my parents.” Scylla murmured to herself.

Raelle met her parents.

Sweet smiling faces, full of joy as they beamed at her, glasses smudged but always reflecting the lightness that resided in the two people who loved her no matter what, flashed in her mind.

Two people who were gone.

Taken from her.

Just like Raelle.

Brutally stolen because they didn’t want to die. They only wanted to be with their family. 

Raise their daughter without the specter of death over her head.

Raelle took a step closer, moving as if to touch her, comfort her, but unable to. “You have your mom’s laugh. They...they found me, actually. Not sure I made a good first impression. Your dad kicks my ass at Scrabble. Your mom is a damn card shark. Never saw that coming.”

Scylla’s face crumpled, and her knees started to buckle.

Raelle was by her side in an instant as she swayed, almost collapsing to the floor. “Breathe, Scyl. It’s ok. You’re ok.”

“Why...why are you telling me this?”

“Because you need to hear it.”

“They murdered my parents. Witches are dying every day. They killed you.”

“Fight back. But, don’t completely lose yourself.”

Scylla’s hand curled to her chest, “Why are you here?”

“Trying to get my girl to not be with me.” Raelle smirked painfully, “Us Cessions get things backwards like that sometimes.”

Scylla stared at her, at the hands hanging so close to her own. Hands she wanted to hold but couldn’t.

Raelle cocked her head to the side, grief washing over her features, “I have to go.”

“What? No.”

“Again, not exactly my choice.” Her grin wobbled, “I’d have you underneath me on that bed if it was.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Raelle conceded, “I’d hug you until the sun rose. Then, I’d kiss you until the sun set.”

Goddess, how could she have not loved this girl? Not still love her?

“Don’t go. Please.” Scylla didn’t care how desperate she sounded.

Raelle opened her mouth to reply, but quickly shut it, her head angling as if someone were talking to her.

“Will I see you again?”

“There’s always next year, right?”

“Next year.”

“Bring everyone. We’ll have a party. I bet Anacostia has a secret drink recipe. Seems the type.”

Scylla choked out a mirthless giggle.

Raelle turned serious, “I’m sorry, Scylla. Sometimes I wish I never met you, so you wouldn’t have to miss me. So I didn’t hurt you.”

“No.”

Raelle kept going, “But, that’d mean never getting to know what it’s like to be in love, and being in love with you was everything.”

She sniffed, tears beginning to cause the image in front of her to turn hazy, “Damn you, Raelle Collar.”

“Seems to be a thing.” Raelle winked before becoming somber, “Don’t make the same mistake I did. Thinking there’s no way out. That all you can be is angry and sad. It took meeting you to know differently.”

“I’m happy I met you.”

“Me, too. Always. No matter what.” She frowned, “Don’t become _them_ to beat them.”

Scylla wiped at her eyes, vision so blurred by tears Raelle was nothing more than an abstract image.

As her hand dropped away, she found herself alone, nothing but the dropped coat and set of keys nearby. 

And the clang of a distant clock calling out the passing of midnight.


End file.
